Days turned into weeks, and while things seemed to improve on the surface, the cracks remained. Lily threw herself into her writing, finding solace in her characters, while James juggled the demands of his publishing house.
One afternoon, Lily arrived at James' office unannounced, a bag of takeout in hand. She hadn't seen him in days and wanted to surprise him.
But as she approached his office door, she froze. James was inside, speaking in low, urgent tones to a woman Lily didn't recognize.
"I told you I'd handle it," James was saying. "Just give me more time."
The woman's response was muffled, but the tension in James' voice sent a chill through Lily.
Before she could process what she was hearing, James turned and spotted her. His expression shifted from surprise to something Lily couldn't quite place—guilt?
"Lily," he said, stepping toward her. "What are you doing here?"
She held up the bag of takeout, forcing a smile. "Thought you could use a break."
James glanced back at the woman, who gave Lily a polite smile before excusing herself. The moment she was gone, Lily turned to James.
"Who was that?"
James hesitated, his jaw tightening. "It's not what you think."
"I didn't say I thought anything," Lily shot back. "But the fact that you're immediately defensive tells me enough."
"Lily—"
"Forget it," she interrupted, setting the bag on his desk. "Enjoy your lunch."
She turned and walked out before he could stop her, her chest tight with a mix of anger and hurt.